Page 6 of The Goblin's Mine

“Thank you,” I say between bites.

Brigid merely nods. I can’t tell if she’s inherently quiet or just choosing not to speak with me. I guess I can’t blame her. My arrival was a bit like someone walking in your front door completely unannounced, and then before you’ve had time to process, having someone tell you to go make the stranger dinner.

“I’m sorry if I’m imposing on your day,” I say. “You don’t have to stay here with me if you don’t want to.”

Brigid merely raises an eyebrow and keeps chewing.

We eat in silence and I give our surroundings another look. The walls are bare except for torches—no art for these goblins. The two rooms I’ve been in have utilized carving techniques to make things out of the rock walls, but apparently the goblins have access to trees. How else could they have made this furniture?

Do they have jobs down here? And where does their food come from?

“Do you grow your own vegetables?” I ask.

Brigid just shrugs, and I sigh. Luckily, I’m saved from further awkward conversational efforts by Kill’s sudden arrival. He strides into the dining hall and straight for us, a scowl on his face. He’s clearly angry, and—this is annoying—is one of thosemales who makes anger look hot. He’s all sharp cheekbones and clenched teeth, with a muscle ticking in his jaw in that sexy way guys have.

One look at him has me all tingly, and I shake my head. Why am I reacting to him like this? He’s been nothing but brusque with me.

“I need you to come with me,” he says, his voice gruff. He grabs my bicep and hauls me up, ignoring the fact that I still have a bit of food left. He gives Brigid a terse nod and then pulls me out of the room. I stumble alongside him as we weave through an elaborate tunnel system—what I imagine an anthill must look like if you’re inside it. After a few moments, he somehow opens a door made in the rock wall and we enter a new room. A suite of small rooms, in fact. Clearly, these are living quarters, and this seems to be his living room. There’s a low table and some chairs, again all carved by hand. Both chairs have plump cushions on them, which I’m betting are also handmade.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

He sighs and runs a hand over his striking white hair. “I told you earlier, we keep our existence secret. It’s one of our most important principles. Our governing council decided the only way to prevent you from sharing about us was to kill you.”

Goosebumps immediately pop up all over my arms. “What?” I squeak. I glance around the room for weapons. Is he my assassin? Am I never leaving this room? Surely he wouldn’t kill me in his own quarters, would he? Think of the mess.

“Relax,” he says with a growl. “I’m not going to hurt you. I persuaded the council to take more time to think about it. In the meantime, I’m stuck with you.” He points to one of the chairs. “Sit.”

“Stuck with me?” Gee, thanks for making it sound like the worst job in the world. It’s not like I asked to hang out with him. “What does that mean?”

“It means that you can’t go home, at least not yet. You have to stay here with us. And as long as you’re here, you stay with me. You don’t leave my sight.”

I blink at him and finally take my seat. When I do, he takes the other chair, watching me closely. On the one hand, I don’t mind staying in his sight, because that means he stays in mine. And what a fine sight it is. On the other hand…

“You can’t just kidnap me,” I point out.

He tilts his head. “You sure about that?”

“It’s against the law.”

He chuckles darkly. “Do you see any human law enforcement around here? Did you tell people where you were going? Does anyone even know you’re here? How could they? You fell into our settlement by accident.”

Okay, those are valid points. Still, if I want to leave, there has to be a way. But in the meantime, maybe this is my chance to get what I came for. As long as I’m not in imminent danger, I should at least try.

“Fine. I’ll stay with you. For now. In the meantime, tell me about yourself.”

He frowns. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Natalie. We take our privacy seriously. Remember the discussion we had two seconds ago, when I told you you can’t leave? Part of the same thing. I’m not going to let you interview me about goblin culture.”

I shrug. “Maybe not, but if I have to basically live with you for some indefinite period, I’m gonna learn stuff whether you want me to or not. Might as well help me, so I don’t insult anyone or commit some horrible faux pas.”

He exhales through his teeth, creating an exasperated hissing noise. But he must see my point, because he gives in. “You can ask me one question.”

There are so many things I want to know. So many things I could ask. So I surprise both of us when the thing that pops out of my mouth is: “How is it you speak English?”

He frowns. “That’s your question?”

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